The Basis of Education Should Be Questions, Not Answers
Can democracy remain vibrant if the public, and especially children, don't have the tools to distinguish sense from nonsense?
Lawrence Maxwell Krauss is a Canadian-American theoretical physicist who is a professor of physics, and the author of several bestselling books, including The Physics of Star Trek and A Universe from Nothing. He is an advocate of scientific skepticism, science education, and the science of morality. Krauss is one of the few living physicists referred to by Scientific American as a "public intellectual", and he is the only physicist to have received awards from all three major U.S. physics societies: the American Physical Society, the American Association of Physics Teachers, and the American Institute of Physics.
Lawrence Krauss: One of the biggest surprises of the Internet is we thought when the Internet came out it would provide everyone new fundamental tools to learn about the world around them, and it would actually remove the censorship and information that we get. Before the Internet we used to get our news from three TV stations and it was carefully edited and carefully described, and after the Internet came out you could search news sources from around the world—great! The problem is the Internet also became a source of misinformation. There's that very famous cartoon that says, “On the Internet no one knows if you're a dog," with a dog typing on a typewriter. You don't know the source of your information, which is the beauty of it. It was the reason it was actually created by particle physicist working at the Large Hadron Collider, or at least CERN the laboratory where that now is, because thousands of physicists needed to communicate with information without caring about where the source came from.
But the fact that the source is shielded is, of course, a great concern nowadays in the political world among other things, and so we have to think about ways that we can address that.
Now, of course, information providers can try and work on that too, but we basically all have our own responsibility to become our own filters. And that's why it seems to me the educational system has to provide those tools, those filtering tools. And that's one of the reasons why I think science is so important because of its built-in filtering tools.
It recognizes that we all want to believe, and as Richard Feynman said, "The person you have to question most is yourself.” Knowing that you want to believe when you read something that validates your beliefs, you should be skeptical of it and your beliefs and you should look out for other sources.
So we have to train people that one source on the Internet is not good enough, you have to search broadly to see if it's validated. More over, you have to empirically test those ideas. If claims are made, you could look out and look at the data to see if those claims are validated.
We all have this new responsibility, because we have a sudden wealth of information, to become our own filters. And I can't see any way that we can move into an Internet-guided world where democracy remains vibrant if the public doesn't have the tools to distinguish sense from nonsense. And for me that's one of the reasons why I talk about science, because I think it provides us one of the key tools to do that.
One things seems very clear to me: education should not be left to private enterprise anymore than police or fire or military or in my opinion health because they're fundamental rights of people. And in a society that has the financial resources to provide individuals a safe and secure environment, which is really what government is all about, part of that is to educate young people. It's a right for every young person in a society, in a modern advanced industrial society, to receive an education. And that means not that we can't have the option of private education, but we have to ensure that students are provided opportunities to become the most productive adults they can be in a modern complex society.
That by the way doesn't mean treating science and other things as purely information, that's a mistake. We used to feel that schools were places that imparted information. Well, I can get more information in my cell phone now than I could in any school, but I could also get more misinformation. What we need to recognize is that science is not just a bunch of facts, but it's a process for deriving facts and it's a process to tell sense from nonsense.
What we need to provide students nowadays is a filter that they can use to assess all the information and misinformation they're barraged with so they can become responsible citizens. And that filter involves teaching kids how to question. Questioning is more important than answering it seems to me. When it comes to school we should teach kids how to question and say let's see how we could get the answer, let's skeptically ask questions, let's test our ideas, let's search through many sources.
Now, this should be the basis of any child's education today, that's public or private, but the government, of course, has to assure that students have at least equal opportunity. Students are going to achieve differently, but at least have equal opportunity access to education.
And that means we have to be able to account for all possible private education systems, some of which are frankly designed to keep students from thinking, to keep students believing some myth that may have existed a long time ago for fear that understanding how the universe really works might undermine their faith.
Well doing that is child abuse, because we're withholding literally resources that will help children become more effective adults. And so there's a very important role in government to ensure that all kids have equal opportunity access to the process by which we gain information. And then as they go out in the outside world they'll get lots of information. I received a PhD, but I will say even in physics most of what I know now I learned after I got my PhD.
"You can can get more information in your cell phone now than you can in any school, but you can also get more misinformation," says American-Canadian theoretical physicist Lawrence Krauss. And he’s right: we’re in an era where any human can access a previously unimaginable wealth of knowledge. This access has grown faster than our ability to process it critically, however, and what we lack is any decent filter to weed out erroneous or partisan information. Children are the most susceptible to this, and Krauss argues that teaching children how to question information—essentially, how to make children skeptics—may save humanity from a dumbing-down. Lawrence Krauss' most recent book is The Greatest Story Ever Told -- So Far: Why Are We Here?
The Lumina Foundation lays out steps for increasing access to quality post-secondary education credentials.
- America's post-high school education landscape was not created with the modern student in mind. Today, clear and flexible pathways are necessary to help individuals access education that can help them lead a better life.
- Elizabeth Garlow explains the Lumina Foundation's strategy to create a post-secondary education system that works for all students. This includes credential recognition, affordability, a more competency-based system, and quality assurance.
- Systemic historic factors have contributed to inequality in the education system. Lumina aims to close those gaps in educational attainment.
- In 2019, Lumina Foundation and Big Think teamed up to create the Lumina Prize, a search to find the most innovative and scalable ideas in post-secondary education. You can see the winners of the Lumina Prize here – congratulations to PeerForward and Greater Commons!
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During World War II, the U.S. incarcerated over 100,000 Japanese Americans in concentration camps throughout the West.
- Now that the issue of concentration camps in the U.S. has once again reared its head, it can be beneficial to recall the last time such camps were employed in the U.S.
- After Pearl Harbor, the U.S. incarcerated over 100,000 Japanese Americans in camps, ostensibly for national security purposes.
- In truth, the incarceration was primarily motivated by racism. What was life like in the U.S.'s concentration camps?
On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, which authorized and directed military commanders "to prescribe military areas … from which any or all persons may be excluded, and with respect to which, the right of any person to enter, remain in, or leave shall be subject to whatever restrictions the Secretary of War or the appropriate Military Commander may impose in his discretion." Under the authority of this executive order, roughly 112,000 men, women, and children of Japanese descent — nearly two-thirds of which were American citizens — were detained in concentration camps.
How did the camps get their start?
With the benefit of a nearly 80-year perspective, it's clear that the internment of Japanese Americans was racially motivated. In response to Japan's growing military power in the buildup to World War II, President Roosevelt commissioned two reports to determine whether it would be necessary to intern Japanese Americans should conflict break out between Japan and the U.S. Neither's conclusions supported the plan, with one even going so far as to "certify a remarkable, even extraordinary degree of loyalty among this generally suspect ethnic group." But of course, the Pearl Harbor attacks proved to be far more persuasive than these reports.
Pearl Harbor turned simmering resentment against the Japanese to a full boil, putting pressure on the Roosevelt administration to intern Japanese Americans. Lieutenant General John DeWitt, who would become the administrator of the internment program, testified to Congress
"I don't want any of them here. They are a dangerous element. There is no way to determine their loyalty... It makes no difference whether he is an American citizen, he is still a Japanese. American citizenship does not necessarily determine loyalty... But we must worry about the Japanese all the time until he is wiped off the map."
DeWitt's position was backed up by a number of pre-existing anti-immigrant groups based out of the West Coast, such as the Joint Immigration Committee and the Native Sons and Daughters of the Golden West. For many, the war simply served as an excuse to get rid of Japanese Americans. In an interview with the Saturday Evening Post, Austin Anson, the managing secretary of the Salinas Vegetable Grower-Shipper Administration, said:
"We're charged with wanting to get rid of the Japs for selfish reasons. We do. It's a question of whether the White man lives on the Pacific Coast or the brown men. ... If all the Japs were removed tomorrow, we'd never miss them in two weeks because the White farmers can take over and produce everything the Jap grows. And we do not want them back when the war ends, either."
Ironically for Anson, the mass deportation of Japanese Americans under Executive Order 9066 meant there was a significant shortage of agricultural labor. Many Caucasians left to fight the war, so the U.S. signed an agreement with Mexico to permit the immigration of several million Mexicans agricultural workers under the so-called bracero program.
Life in the camps
Hulton Archive/Getty Images
Circa 1943: Aerial view of a Japanese American relocation center in Amache, Colorado, during World War II. Each family was provided with a space 20 by 25 ft. The barracks were set in blocks and each block was provided with a community bath house and mess hall.
For the most part, Japanese Americans remained stoic in the face of their incarceration. The phrase shikata ga nai was frequently invoked — the phrase roughly translates to "it cannot be helped," which, for many, represents the perceived attitude of the Japanese people to withstand suffering that's out of their control.
Initially, most Japanese Americans were sent to temporary assembly centers, typically located at fairgrounds or racetracks. These were hastily constructed barracks, where prisoners were often packed into tight quarters and made to use toilets that were little more than pits in the ground. From here, they were relocated to more permanent camps — replete with barbed wire and armed guards — in remote, isolated places across the seven states of California, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, Utah, and Arkansas.
Many of these camps, also known as War Relocation Centers, were little better than the temporary assembly centers. One report described the buildings as "tar paper-covered barracks of simple frame construction without plumbing or cooking facilities of any kind." Again, overcrowding was common.
As a result, disease became a major concern, including dysentery, malaria, and tuberculosis. This was problematic due to the chronic shortage of medical professionals and supplies, an issue that was not helped by the War Relocation Authority's decision to cap Japanese American medical professional's pay at $20 a month (about $315 in 2019 dollars), while Caucasian workers had no such restriction. As a comparison, Caucasian nurses earned $150 ($2,361) a month in one camp.
The U.S. government also administered loyalty questionnaires to incarcerated Japanese Americans with the ultimate goal of seeing whether they could be used as soldiers and to segregate "loyal" citizens from "disloyal" ones. The questionnaires often asked whether they would be willing to join the military and if they would completely renounce their loyalty to Japan. Due to fears of being drafted, general confusion, and justified anger at the U.S. government, thousands of Japanese Americans "failed" the loyalty questionnaire and were sent to the concentration camp at Tule Lake. When Roosevelt later signed a bill that would permit Japanese Americans to renounce their citizenship, 98 percent of the 5,589 who did were located at Tule Lake. Some apologists cite this an example of genuine disloyalty towards the U.S., but this argument clearly ignores the gross violation of Japanese Americans' rights. Later, it became clear that many of these renunciations had been made under duress, and nearly all of those who had renounced their citizenship sought to gain it back.
Since many children lived in the camps, they came equipped with schools. Of course, these schools weren't ideal — student-teacher ratios reached as high as 48:1, and supplies were limited. The irony of learning about American history and ideals was not lost on the students, one of whom wrote in an essay --
"They, the first generation [of Japanese immigrants], without the least knowledge of the English language nor the new surroundings, came to this land with the American pioneering spirit of resettling. ...Though undergoing many hardships, they did reach their goal only to be resettled by the order of evacuation under the emergency for our protection and public security."
Potentially the best part of life in the camps — and the best way for determined prisoners to demonstrate their fundamental American-ness — was playing baseball. One camp even featured nearly 100 baseball teams. Former prisoner Herb Kurima recalled the importance of baseball in their lives in an interview with Christian Science Monitor. "I wanted our fathers, who worked so hard, to have a chance to see a ball game," he said. "Over half the camp used to come out to watch. It was the only enjoyment in the camps."
When the camps finally closed in 1945, the lives of the incarcerated Japanese Americans had been totally upended. Some were repatriated to Japan, while others settled in whichever part of the country they had been arbitrarily placed in. Those who wished to return to the West Coast were given $25 and a train ticket, but few had anything to return to. Many had sold their property to predatory buyers prior to being incarcerated, while theft had wiped out whatever else they had left behind. Many, many years later, the 1988 Civil Liberties Act mandated that each surviving victim be paid $20,000, though that seems like a small fine to pay for irrevocably changing the courses of more than 100,000 lives.